


Mama Knows

by sadistically_sweet



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Breastfeeding, F/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 10:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18519394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadistically_sweet/pseuds/sadistically_sweet
Summary: Oh dear...what is a mother to do when their little one just can't be soothed by the usual means?





	Mama Knows

They had talked about it before. Once. 

After he first realized she was a Little.

After she realized that the legends were true; he was a mother (to a six-legged demon horse, but still a mother…impressively so). 

After she first allowed him to touch her. 

After he held her and murmured old, forgotten lullabies in a language she’d never heard before into her ear and stroked her hair until she fell into the most restful night of sleep she’d had in years. 

After she slipped into headspace around him for the first time and cried because she couldn’t find her pack of special, glittery crayons.

After she introduced him to her stuffies for the first time and he remembered their names instantly, and formally bowed to each one.

After she showed him her ultra-secret stash of diapers. 

After he changed her into one. 

…After he stopped being just ‘Loki’ (or in ~~a lot of~~ some cases, ‘Asshole’), and became ‘Mama’. 

It was after all of that. And still…Loki never ceased to surprise her. 

The first time it was brought up, she was Big…well, still in Big headspace _technically_ , but bordering on the edge of slipping lower. She’d had a headache for the better part of the day, and that made her grumpy, and being grumpy already made her feel small.

On top of that, he had a habit of teasing her when she was grumpy, knowing exactly what to say to tip the scales in favor of her becoming Little instead of just pissing her off (even more). 

Nat had lain splayed over his lap that day, her head resting on his thigh while he worked the knots out of her neck and shoulders. “…Are you sure you won’t take a bottle?” he asked, a soft smirk on his face with the knowledge that she’d say ‘yes’ sooner rather than later. 

She pinched his thigh again, just as she had been all afternoon to let him know that this time, it wouldn’t work. She wasn’t going to go small. 

Next time, she’d bite. That would show him. 

He just chuckled. “Fussy, fussy,” he chided, playing with a lock of hair behind her ear…she’d left it curly today. 

Loki gently twisted the curl around his finger; “Maybe I should put you on the breast instead…you wouldn’t get so colicky then.”

Teasing, of course. Mostly. But he felt Natasha go still, and he let the lock of her hair slide from his finger, then brushed it away from her face and leaned over.

Natasha  was staring straight ahead, her face blank. “You…can do that?” she asked, finally. 

“I can do whatever I please,” he said, leaning back. “Which would include suckling my children.”

He felt Natasha flush warm in his lap, but she remained quiet for a long time. He didn’t press for an answer. He didn’t tease. He just took her hair back into his fingers, and played. 

“…Maybe,” she said at last, her voice straining to sound empty, and failing. 

Loki smiled. “Bottles it is, then,” he said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “For now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t brought up again after that, not for months…not that either of them had ever forgotten the conversation, however brief it had been.

Topics like that are never just ‘forgotten’. It was inevitable. 

It had been a trying day. Natasha had woken up early after a not-even-close-to-peaceful night’s rest (the concept of getting a full eight hours of uninterrupted sleep was still foreign to her, and probably always would be. She’d come to accept that. Mama, however, hadn’t), and even after a warm bath with soothing lavender bubbles and an early nap, she’d woken up still just as tired and disgruntled as she’d been before. 

And it didn’t help that Mama had plopped her into her _booster seat_ for lunch.

She wasn’t hungry. She didn’t want to be in this fucking thing. She didn’t want to eat. Nothing looked good. Nothing smelled good. No, she didn’t want cheese cubes. No, she didn’t want crackers either. NO, she didn’t want applesauce! NO, SHE DIDN’T WANT THE AIRPLANE! IT’S A SPOON, NOT AN AIRPLANE! She didn’t want to be _strapped down_ into this **_fucking thing_** , Mama! How hard was that to UNDERSTAND?!?!

Loki pulled the spoonful of applesauce back right before Natasha tried to slap it from his hand. “Natasha,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Mama knows you don’t feel well but if you make me make a mess, then you’re going to be the one licking it up from the floor.”

Nat arched her back and _shoved_ against the tray of her booster seat, and let out an ear-splitting screech of…well, a little more than ‘displeasure’, but not quite ‘outrage’. Somewhere in the middle.

Loki rolled his eyes and stood up. “Okay,” he said, tossing the small, pink bowl of applesauce and the spoon into the sink and sending the contents splattering all over the faucet and neighboring countertop–Mama doesn’t play this particular game. 

He walked over and unlatched the tray from his still-shrieking babe’s seat and lifted her up and onto his hip…where she immediately quieted. Her fingers went to her mouth for comfort and she blinked up at him with dark-lidded, teary eyes. 

Loki softened. 

Tsk, Midgardians. His time here had made him sentimental. 

He sighed and kissed her forehead; “You would feel better if you would just eat, child,” he said, carrying her through the living room of their shared apartment (well, it was originally hers but once she started allowing him to stay the night, he’d just never left).

Nat laid her head on his shoulder, and he could hear the quiet sucking sounds from around her fingers. 

…Which, in turn, _reminded_ him.

There was no shortage of soft blankets in the apartment (but then again, you couldn’t have too many soft blankets, could you?), so Loki had his pick from the no less than six that were flung over the back of the couch as he carried Natasha to the big, overstuffed, plush armchair where most of her naps actually took place, and sat down heavily. 

This, coupled with the fact that Loki was arranging her in his lap and swaddling her with a blanket, made Nat start to cry again. “No n-nap, Ma-m-ma,” she sputtered, trying to push herself back up onto her arm. “No nap!”

“Shhhhhh, no nap.” Loki pressed his lips to her temple, murmuring to her in gentle Russian; “Settle, _malyshka_ …we’re just going to rest.”

Sadly, that did nothing to ‘settle’ her…’rest’ was just another word for nap. “Nooo, Mama, no res’d, n-no nap!!” She placed her hand back on Loki’s chest to push herself up again, and…

…And then stilled when she felt soft, plump flesh where she would normally find taut muscle and bone. 

A breast. Her hand had found, a breast. 

Still sniffling, Natasha peered up at Loki through wet lashes. “M-mama?”

“Shhhhh,” Loki shushed again as his hand went to the top of his robe. “So tough, isn’t it…being a little one? So many feelings in such a small body, you don’t know what to feel, nor the words to describe it, poor thing,” he tutted, pushing the silky fabric from his shoulder. “Mama knows.”

Natasha watched silently, her tears forgotten, as Loki slipped his arm from the sleeve of his robe and tucked it behind his back, revealing a pale, milk-swollen breast, the nipple a slightly darker shade of pink than Loki’s usually were.

A small, shiny drop of colostrum had collected at the tip, just waiting for her. 

Natasha’s gaze flicked back to Loki one more time. 

The corner of his mouth ticked up in a small, yet warm smile, and he gave her a small nod…

“All for you, my fledgling.”

A small, barely-audible (but entirely relieved) sigh escaped Natasha’s lips, and within the same moment she latched on to Loki’s nipple and began to suckle greedily, as if famished. Another sigh escaped through her nose when warm breast milk hit her tongue…it was thicker than she’d expected. Sweeter, too. 

She used her hand to cup Loki’s breast and began to knead it before she realised what she was doing, and felt it rush out onto her tongue with an urgency that matched her nursing. 

Loki’s smile grew wider, and he sank back into the comfort of the overstuffed chair with a contented sigh of his own. He combed his fingers back through Nat’s sleep-tangled hair, gently tugging the locks free of snags and gnarls, and felt the pull of her tongue at his nipple. “Yes,” he cooed at her, watching her lips curl around his nipple and her jawline flex.

“Mama knows.”


End file.
